


Sausage

by mansikka



Series: Omelette [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-24 13:22:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6155047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean knows the theory.</p><p>At least, he’s read about it. Perhaps he’s ‘studied’ a little too, in the form of porn videos. All in the name of research and that. To make sure he gets it right.</p><p>But still. He knows the mechanics. The ins and outs of it, if you will.</p><p>That he’s been fantasising about feeling Cas inside him, and Cas pummelling him senseless into every flat surface he can think of since possibly the day they’d met, is probably an understatement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sausage

**Author's Note:**

> I... called a fanfic 'sausage'... I just... I don't know what to do with that... and I'm the one that wrote it!
> 
> It's still kinda silly, but that's the mood I'm in :)
> 
> x

Dean knows the theory.

At least, he’s read about it. Perhaps he’s ‘studied’ a little too, in the form of porn videos. All in the name of research and that. To make sure he gets it right.

But still. He knows the mechanics. The ins and outs of it, if you will.

That he’s been fantasising about feeling Cas inside him, and Cas pummelling him senseless into every flat surface he can think of since possibly the day they’d met, is probably an understatement.

He likes to think that Cas’ theory, that  _ knowing  _ the theory, and thinking so very hard and long about it will mean everything goes exactly to plan.

Because he’s given this a lot of thought. A  _ lot  _ .

Even so. He can’t help swallow a little thickly with nerves as Cas eyes up the slickness of his lubed-up fingers with interest, then wriggles down a little more comfortably to settle between Dean’s lewdly opened legs.

Not that Dean is embarrassed by the lewdness; he wants Cas so much that he has no time to even think about the way he’s displaying himself there for him.

When Cas gently presses the tip of his middle finger against Dean’s hole, Dean is so eager for this bit to be over that he actually impales himself on it a little, sucking in a surprised breath despite all of his research telling him what to expect.

“Are you okay?” Cas asks in concern as he leans down over Dean to kiss him, looking down at where his finger is pressed inside him as though he’s debating sliding it back out.

Dean nods, still swallowing thickly, angling his jaw up to get that kiss, and opens his knees a fraction wider telling Cas to keep going.

Cas does just that, pressing in, in, in some more until his middle finger is as deep as it can be, and then he stops moving, giving Dean chance to get used to the feel of it in there.

Dean flicks him a smile that tells him to continue, and Cas draws his finger out slowly, sucking in a little breath as he takes in the way his own finger is glistening from being inside him. He glances up at Dean in awe, then straight back down, plunging his finger in again and breathing out hard at the way Dean gasps at his touch.

Cas continues pumping him, just with that one finger, for what seems like a very long time, before Dean feels the tip of another finger pressing in alongside the first one. The gasp turns to a groan, and involuntarily he’s flinging his hips down on Cas’ fingers again, unable to stop himself.

When Cas bends the ends of his fingers deep inside Dean and starts pressing around his walls, Dean starts moaning, long before Cas gets anywhere near his prostate; but when he finds it, the feel of it makes him white out for a moment, cursing under his breath and arching up against Cas as though he needs to be touching every inch of skin he can get to.

By the time Cas adds a third finger, Dean is a whimpering heap, begging but he doesn’t know exactly what for, letting out a string of obscenities that for all the sense he’s making could actually be in Enochian, and all the while, angling himself up and claiming Cas’ mouth.

From the way Cas is leaking all over him, Dean’s pretty sure Cas is enjoying what he’s doing to him almost as much as Dean’s enjoying being done.

“Can I… Dean?” Cas says, glancing down at his own hand as his fingers slide in and out of Dean, then back up to his face in pure want.

Dean shifts his legs again and nods, shakily holding out his hands to Cas in invitation. Cas crawls up on to his knees, holding on to Dean’s hips for leverage, still watching Dean’s face for permission. He gets a single nod, and then he’s resting his hands either side of Dean’s hole, slowly spreading them apart and him open.

Dean’s breathing out slowly, in anticipation, and yeah, of course, a little fear. Because he trusts Cas, of course he does, but he’s not done this before. What if it hurts? What if he plain just doesn’t like it? Even though he knows he wants to feel this so badly?

Dean’s eyes fall down between his legs to where Cas is lining himself up, and his head presses bluntly against him. Cas leans, applying the tiniest amount of pressure, just to get a little of himself inside.

Cas keeps pushing, slowly, slowly, and Dean doesn’t feel much of anything aside from  _ huh _ , until Cas has slid his head all the way in. And then it’s holy fuck, because what is that? Is that pain? Is that good? What  _ is  _ it?

Cas waits patiently, shifting only the slightest amount to keep the friction from driving him dizzy, and it just takes that tiny movement for Dean to realise that that,  _ that  _ , feels very, very good.

The second Dean relaxes Cas is sliding all the way in, and Dean is letting out this long, low groan that says nothing but  _ yessssssssssssss  _ . Cas’ lips twitch in amusement but his eyes are definitely lust blown, and he withdraws himself slowly before pumping himself back in, letting out his own sighs that show just how good this feels to him as well.

“Dean,” he breathes out, his hips rolling instinctively so he’s sliding in and out of Dean steadily and setting this pace that Dean’s helpless but to roll back on. This angle Cas has got him at means that for every stumble Cas takes forward and straightens himself back up from, Dean’s prostate is getting this glancing kind of attention that is making him see stars. Which he would never have believed possible in a thousand years.

But the way Cas’ head just keeps gliding against it…

Dean’s lost, in every which way possible, and really, really does not care. About anything at all. Other than that feeling of Cas sliding in and out of him at a rapidly increasing pace and that deep, hot, full feeling that’s resonating out and building up right through him like he’s never, ever felt before.

They’re not quite kissing, because neither of them seem to be able to get their lips close enough to actually touch without a grunt or groan interrupting them. But they’re watching each other. That staring thing they do that’s kind of intense when they’re upright and fully dressed has nothing on the way their eyes are fixed on one another now.

“Cas.... you feel… so good…” Dean stammers out, surprised but also not by his own words, because he’s never been one for uttering such… praise, during sex. But Cas deserves it, god, how he deserves it, and the fact that Cas is losing any sense of restraint above him, pounding into him unevenly and desperately and roughly and choking as he does, shows Dean just how much Cas is enjoying this too.

Honestly. They’ve ruined themselves for anyone else now, but that’s okay too, Dean manages to think to himself, because there’s no way in the world he’s ever letting anyone else get a taste of this. Cas is  _ his  _ , and his only.

Especially if he keeps pounding him just  _ there… _

Oh  _ god _ …

Just when Dean thinks it can’t get any better, Cas is wrapping one hand around Dean’s cock, his palm instantly slick with his precum, and is jerking him in time to every thrust. Dean is arching up and off the bed with a howl, coming harder than he thought was physically possible, before slumping back down heavily on to the bed with another grunt, pulling Cas over him.

But Cas is close, so close himself, and he drops the hand he’s been gripping Dean with to brace himself a little more stably against the bed. He needs to, with the pace he’s going at, because otherwise he’d be falling down on Dean and wouldn’t be able to chase that feeling that’s making him gasp out and tense up and…

Dean’s never heard anything quite so obscene in his life as Cas coming. And, coupled with the feeling of Cas emptying himself inside him, Dean’s pretty sure he really is going to die happy, and very, very soon. And sated. Very very sated, too.

Especially when Cas finds the strength to pull himself up and flop down next to him, wrapping a hand around Dean’s waist and pulling him closer possessively, with a kiss to his temple before falling immediately asleep, a small smirk playing on his lips.

  
  
  



End file.
